Gone with the Wind
by SunlightHurtsMyEyes
Summary: When Dominique Weasley's in 7th year, she feels like she has everything- she's popular, pretty, with good grades and an amazing family. But when tragedy sticks, devastating everyone, Dominique will learn the true meaning of death, of family and of love.
1. Chapter 1

**Hiya! Gone with the Wind was written for the Divergent Competition for the Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges Forum (amazing forum, go check it out!). The aim is to use as many or little of the provided quotes, taken from the Divergent book series, as you want and write a chapter on them. The due date is July 5th and I should have done 11 chapters by then! Anyway, the quote for this chapter is 'Why do people pretend death is sleep? It's not."**

_Dominique's POV_

"May James Potter, Roxanne Weasley, Fred Weasley, Dominique Weasley, Rose Weasley, Albus Potter, Louis Weasley, Lucy Weasley, Lily Potter and Hugo Weasley please come to my office now." Professor McGonagall's voice booms all over the castle, making the ground shake ever-so-slightly and the tables rattle, causing students to have to seize their belongings, before they end up on the floor.

I look around the room, to see confused looks on all three of my cousins faces. We are often called into Professor McGonagall's office for pranks gone wrong or some made up crap that the Slytherin's had fed their head of House about us. But never in my six and a half years at Hogwarts, had the whole family been called in. To say I'm not slightly confused and a little nervous would be a lie, but I'm more curious that anything.

"Go on then! Don't keep the head waiting. Just make sure you copy up what you've missed from someone who hasn't been stupid enough to risk their Hogwarts education by pulling some utterly dire prank on the Slytherins." Professor McLaggen's voice returned to its droning tones, as he recites all the'important' things about Charms.

I quickly shove everything into my bag, hastily exiting the room, followed by Roxanne, Fred and James.

"Okay, you guys seriously pulled another prank! I mean, if I was involved, we wouldn't be getting caught right now! Did I say we? Cause I meant you! I am NOT taking the fall for you guys being so stupid and immature! Come on it's our last year at Hogwarts and I do NOT want you guys messing..." Roxy starts going all Head Girl on us, but is cut off by her twin.

"Well, I'm with you there, cause I wasn't involved either! I though we were partners, James?!" Fred states furiously, though I can tell he's a little hurt.

"This wasn't me either. Do you really think I'd give you lot some of the credit if I pulled it off?" He has a point- James would admit if he had pulled a brilliant prank, and he wouldn't give anyone else any credit. He's trying to make a name for himself and out-do our pranking ancestors.

"Don't look at me, I have no idea either," I say, as we turn a corner into the corridor leading to Professor McGonagall's office. We see third year Lily and Hugo traipsing up the corridor, looking slightly pissed.

"Okay what did you dungheads do?! I am not getting in detentions or anything for your STUPID prank!" Lily was is just like her mum. She's kind of scary, when she wanted to be.

"Wait, so this isn't your work either?" Fred says, getting us all more confused by the second.

"Nope." Hugo replies, popping his 'p' coolly, "We thought this was your fault."

"It's not. There is no way Rose, Albus, Lucy and Louis could pull off a prank so big that we would all get in trouble," Roxanne pondered as we began to walk up the open staircase to Professor McGonagall's office.

"I don't know. When Rose puts her mind to something, she could probably achieve it," I say, knowing full well that out of all of us, Rose is the smartest.

"Pranking can't be learnt. It is an art." reply James and Fred, both worshippers of the Pranking religion.

"Wow guys, that was deep. Excuse me while I wipe the tears from my eye." I fake wiping my eyes as everybody, bar Rose, giggles. Now is not the time to be laughing, and I know it, but I can't help it.

"Seriously?! How can you all joke at a time like this?! We're being summoned to the Head's office for crying out loud!" a hyperventilating Lily cries.

"Not as if we've not been here before..." James and Fred smirk.

"Okay, start being serious. All of you." Roxanne goes back into Head Girl mode as we reach the top of the stairs. I take a deep breathe and knock on the old Oak door.

"Come in." McGonagall's stern voice sounds shaky and thin.

I push open the door, "Ah, you're all here. Sit down." I make my way over to one of the many hard wooden chairs around her desk, 4 of which are filled by Lucy, Louis, Rose and Albus. I sit down, James on my left and Roxanne on my right. I glance at Louis, questioning him with my eyes as to why we're here. He shrugs and goes back to facing McGonagall.

"There's been an accident... I don't know the details, just that it wasn't anyone's fault and no one could prevent it... I'm terribly sorry to have to be the one to tell you all this, but I told your parents I would, in order to make it easier for them. Never in all my years as a Hogwarts teacher have I had to do this, and I would wish this on no one, especially not your family. There is no easy way to say this." I hold my breathe. I dont want to know. I know its bad and I dont want to know. "Your cousin and sister, Victoire Weasley, is dead."

Silence.

It feels as if the world has stopped. As if we are frozen in time. No one moves. No one speaks. It feels as if no one is even breathing. The next few seconds feel longer than my entire life.

My sister. My beautiful, smart, perfect sister is dead. Dead. And I'll never see her again. She's never coming home. The sister who's name was my first word, the one who made me pancakes when I was ill, the one who went off to Hogwarts crying, the one who's gotten straight O's, the one who has a crush Teddy Lupin since she was 4, the one I shared a room with for 17 years, the one who is the perfect child: Dead.

Suddenly, I slam back to earth. Back to reality. Lily starts crying into her hands. Rose cuddles a sobbing Hugo. Lucy rushes over to a dumb-struck Louis, and pulls him into a hug. Albus makes his way to Lily, quite unsure of what to do. Fred gets up and sat sits next to Roxanne, who then bursts into uncontrollable tears. I do nothing. I sit there, staring a McGonagall, unable to process the fact that my sister is dead. James reaches out and grabs my hand.

"Will we be able to see her?" Louis asks.

"What?!" I say, shooting up from my chair.

"Yes, I'd imagine you will be." McGonagall answers, ignoring my interruption.

"She'll just look like she's sleeping, right?" Louis' voice quivers.

"Why do people pretend death is sleep? It's not." I say, making a hasty exit from the room.

I run like a coward. Away from the room. Away from the school. Away from my family. Away from my thoughts. Away from the fact that my stunning, intelligent, loved, perfect sister is dead.

**Loads happened in that chapter! I'm sorry if you don't like the fact I killed Victoire, but that's kinda what the fic is based around. Please leave a review, it would mean the world! Thanks you for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I am so sorry I've not updated recently! It's just been so hectic recently, as I'm currently taking waaaay too many exams! Anyway, hopefully I'll have the next chapter up soon! The prompt for this chapter is 'Sometimes, the best way to help someone is to be near them'. Thanks for reviews! Feel free to ask questions and I'll try and answer them!**

_Teddy's POV_

Silence echoes around me as I traipse through the long, vibrant green grass that fills the Weasley's orchard. It's like someone has enhanced everything- the grass is bright green and eye-catching, the apples ripe and ruby red, the trunks of the trees withering and old, the sky a dark, midnight blue, the moon whiter and fuller than fresh snow. The air is thick

with heartbreak and mourning, and even the young birds, that occasionally fly past, seeme to slow down and understand the deafening grief that has surrounded the Weasley's for days.

It has been 4 days, 17 hours and 35 minutes since I found out that Vic died. Vic- with the perfect smile, loving family, brilliant grades and open heart. The one that I was expected to fall in love with. And I maybe I did. Maybe I didn't. I guess I'll never know.

Just over a year ago, I almost did. It was the summer before her 7th year, and I was 21 and carefree. I had practically lived at her house, spending almost every waking minute with her, laughing and talking. It was great. I thought I'd seen a completely different side to her- I liked her before, but I always perceived her as a bit stuck up, a bit too perfect. I was closer to Dom. But over the summer, I honestly thought Vic had changed. And then it came the time for her to go back to school. I went with the family to wish her off on the platform; just as she was getting on the train, she kissed me. It was brief and fleeting, and after I set her straight ("I can't date you. You deserve better than me. Your more of my sister," was the pathetic excuse I decided to use). But James saw, and being the excited little 3rd year that he was, he went back and told everyone. And all the 'congratulations' and 'we knew it would happen someday' came flooding in. It took months for everyone to understand that me and Vic were not together.

If we were, would it have made a difference? Could this have been prevented? Or would it just have inevitably hurt more? The questions swirled round my head, making it impossible to think of anything else.

All around me, I see her- I see her lying in the long grass as a 13-year-old, sunbathing sand trying to be older. I see her tangled in a tree above my head as a 7-year-old, preparing to jump down. I see her munching on a apple as a 10-year-old, savouring every bite. I see her stargazing as a 19-year-old, just days before her death.

And I bolt. Back to the house, the memories still fresh in my head, the hurt of a new raw wound.

I shoot through the back door, slamming it shut behind me, as if trying to keep the memories of her away; I shut my eyes, lean against the door and breathe deeply. One. Slowly counting to ten, I tell myself that I can think about her all I like for the next ten seconds, but when I hit

ten, I forget about her again. Two. Her hair was always shimmering, even in the winter. Three. It got stuck on a tree in the orchard once when she was fifteen, and it took me an hour to untangle it. Four. She never used to tan; she was the same pale ivory colour all year round. Five. Why did she sunbathe then? Maybe it was a social thing? Six. Her teeth were perfectly straight and white, and her smile just accentuated that. Seven. Did she wear make up? She must have. She was always stunning. Or was that part of the Veela in her? Eight. What was her favourite song? What about her favourite band? Nine. Wait, what were her grade in her OWLS? What about her NEWTS? Ten. No. Stop. I'm not ready to stop thinking bout her.

I open my eyes, pushing all the painful thoughts and new-found confusion to the back of my mind. There, in front of me, I see Grandma Molly waving her wand, cooking up a big meal for us all, a tear or two streaming silently down her face.

"Grandma Molly? You okay?" I ask tentatively.

She turns away from her cooking, wipes the tears away with her wrinkled hands and embraces me. "It's not me you need to be worried about, child., you should be spending your're time worrying about Dominique," she says with a sigh, as another tear or two creates a pathway down her ageing face.

Dominique's been staying here ever since Professor McGonagal broke the news to them at school. Dominique didn't take it very well. She got back and ran straight into Grandma Molly's arms. I'm not sure when, but it was decided that it might be best for Dom to stay at the Burrow. It's been almost a week, and every time I even set foot in the room, she'll turn away and pretend she can't hear me. And, to be honest, it's killing me. It's like when Victoire died, Dom did too. I encircle Molly with my long arms, bringing her into a hug. I've known my Grandma Molly my whole life and not once has she ever cried- in front of me at least.

"For the moment, I'm worried about you." She pulls away, her baby blue eyes connect with mine, and I break.

"Fine. I've tried speaking to her, I really have, but she won't even look at me. I've been up there every day since she started staying here, and I can't get through to her. I feel so... helpless. No matter what I do or say, she won't even look at me. I can't stand to see her like this and know there's nothing I can do to help. It's like we've lost both of them."

"Sometimes," she takes a deep breath and continues, "the best way to help someone, is to be near them. Even if it hurts you."

For the first time in days, I smile. A proper smile. "Thanks." I say hurriedly, and kiss her on the cheek.

That's what I love about my. Grandma Molly- she always knows the right thing to say and do. And in that moment of time, I forget about Vic. I'm trapped in temporary excitement at the prospect of helping Dom, and in turn, helping Grandma Molly. I bound up the stairs, a huge weight lifted off my shoulders, and enter her room without even knocking.

And I don't know if it's minutes, hours or days, but I sit there, next to the blonde that looks heartbreakingly like her sister, and hold her, as she cries for everything that was, that is and that could've been.

**Sooo... What'd you think? Please leave your thoughts and suggestions in a comment. You'll make my day if you follow and favourite! Anyway, hope you liked it!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the amazing reviews and follows and favourites- they mean the world! This is a pre-funeral chapter and the prompt is 'Who cares about pretty, I'm going for noticeable.'**

Today is the funeral. I'm not to sure how I feel- to be honest, I'm not sure anyone is. Part of me wants it over, goodbyes said, letting me get on with my life. The other part wants to get it called off, break down and cry. The funeral took weeks to plan, and way too many arguments, tears and door slamming were involved.

Apart from Dom. She stayed quiet; out of the way, hardly involved. Even when she was, she gave an indirect answer, like 'I don't know' or 'it's not up to me'. The other Weasleys got home from Hogwarts almost a week ago, and she's hardly seen any of them. Didn't feel like going to Platform 9 and 3/4 to pick them up, was 'too tired' to come downstairs for any of the family dinners, and downright refused to even let any of them in her room (the room that she and Vic used to stay in when they came to the Burrow).

I snap out of my thoughts when I realise the time: 10:37. 23 minutes till the funeral. 23 minutes till the final goodbyes. 23 minutes till we can all try and move on. My stomach plummets and my heart starts pounding. Too soon. Way too soon.

"Stop," I tell myself internally. "You've got to be the strong one." I take a deep breath and make my way up to Dom's room to check if she's even ready. I clamber up the stairs, taking them 2 by 2, until I reach the 2nd to last room. I pause, taking a deep breath, hand shaking wildly on the doorknob.

"Come in," I hear a yell from inside the room. I push open the old oak door, not knowing what to expect. Anything but what I found, I guess. A wreck? Maybe even a hint more emotion? But not this. Not a composed, almost-normal looking Dom. She's wearing a skin-tight dress that covers just enough, a leather jacket, and heels. Her hair curls its way down to her lower-rib cage, emitting a golden sheen; her face is flawless, eyes perfectly lined with black and lips in the process of being painted a vibrant red.

"What are you doing?" I ask before I can stop myself, in shock. She doesn't look like Dom. She should look like she she's in mourning, not as if she's about to go a club.

"My makeup," she says, without even missing a beat. Her fingernails are wrapped delicately around the tube, softly colouring her lips.

"Dom, it's a sister's funeral," my voice quavering with anger. I'm not to sure why I'm telling her this: she's not mine to control. Am I telling her this as a brother or something else?

"I know. That's why I've got to look good," she replies not even looking at me. How can she be so calm? How can she be so selfish?

"You're naturally stunning, Dom. This," I gesturing to what she's wearing, "is not even remotely pretty."

"Who cares about pretty? I'm going for noticeable." She doesn't even hesitate. It's as if she knows what I'm going to say before i even say it.

I storm over to where she's standing, staring at her own beauty in the mirror as she continues to disguise it, and grab her arm, turning her around to face me, so we're not even inches apart. Some part of me wants to kiss her, but the other part wants to pull her into a brotherly hug and hold her there until she's finally cried all the emotion and do grief out. I decide against either.

"Dom. Stop, okay? Stop doing this. You can't go like this." I gesture again to what she's wearing. "Your whole family will be there. All your friends, people who have watched you grow up, war veterans, everyone. They can't see you like this. So change. Now," I say, attempting to keep my voice as calm as possible.

"Like what? I look fine. You don't control me, Teddy, so stop trying. You didn't care before this all happened, and I'm not going to be your replacement for Victoire," she hisses, staring me straight in the eyes, daring me to take her on.

"I cared, Dom, more than you can ever imagine, and don't even try to kid yourself otherwise. You have the biggest support system round you will never not have anyone, so stop acting like a selfish 4-year-old and change. Now," I say, putting her back in her place. I can see her point of view though- I guess since Victoire's died I have been paying a little more attention to Dom. But I've always cared for her.

She stares at me for a while, attempting to get me to back down. "Fine. But get out. Now." She turns away from me, pulling her arm out of my iron grip.

"Love you Dom," I say with a fake smile as I exit the room, just to rub in the fact I won and to try and get her to smile one of her award-winning smiles.

She spins around, her golden hair creating a halo round her head. "Fuck you Teddy."

**Sorry for the little bit of bad language! I couldn't find any other way to express it that had the same effect. Please leave a review and follow and favourite!**

**Thanks**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi again! Wow, chapter 4 already! I love this chapter, and it has a bit of Molly in, which is always the best! The prompt for this chapter is 'Humans can't tolerate emptiness for long'. Enjoy!**

_Teddy's POV_

38 days. 38 days since Victoire died. 19 since the funeral. It was small but quaint, exactly what she would have wanted. Ironically, it was in the back garden, which is also where she was christened. And people seem to be moving on, little by little, getting on with their lives without her. Apart from one.

Dom is still in her room at the top of the Burrow. I'm still in mine too, but I go out; she, on the other hand, doesn't.

Her once perfectly shiny and silky flow of golden locks is now greasy and pilled in a messy bun on the top of her head. Her beautiful figure has wasted away and is now covered in baggy jumper and pyjama bottoms. Her flawlessly painted nails are now chipped and short, almost like stubs. Her sparkling, vivid, intelligent eyes now stare lifelessly out of the window and look as if she's died as well.

Whenever I go up to speak to her, she hardly mutters a word. She won't talk to Grandma Molly, apart from to murmur a quiet thank you now and again, and she completely ignores her parents.

But we all act as if we don't hear the heart-wrenching sobs. We act as if we forget that she was screaming as she woke up from a nightmare in the middle of the night. As if we didn't sit there and hold her until all hours of the morning. We act as if what she's doing is right, even though deep down we know it's wrong.

Bill and Fleur are sick with worry; not only have they lost one daughter, but they're losing the other one too. In the space of two months, they've gone from having 2 daughters and one son, and all of them being happy and healthy, to having one daughter dead, the other hardly alive, and a son who's doing god-knows-what to deal with the burden of what's happened. They've both lost considerable amounts of weight and sleep and look as if they've got the weight of the world resting on them.

I'm torn from my thoughts as I nurse a mug of coffee, sat in the kitchen at the Burrow. Grandma Molly bustles her way into the kitchen, looking as if she hasn't slept a wink. She starts doing the washing up, her hands covered in foam within a matter of seconds.

"Let me do that," I say, getting up from my chair, causing it to screech along the floor.

"No no, dear, it's fine, honestly." She continues washing without even looking at me.

"Grandma Molly, you sit down and I'll wash up. You look absolutely exhausted."

She sits down in the chair I was sat in moments ago, as I grab a mug and start washing, the warmth of the water making my freezing hands tingle.

"I'm fine, dear. I just can't sleep that well- this whole thing with Victoire is affecting us all. I was flooing Bill and Fleur till late too. They have absolutely no idea what to do with Dominique. And they don't even have a clue how Louis is handling it or what he's getting up to at school. Stressful times, dear," she says, looking as if she's being torn apart.

"If Louis needs them, he'll write. I think he's handling this a lot better that most of us. As for Dominque... I don't know. What I do know is that humans can't stand emptiness for long. Look at my Grandma Dromeda- she tried it after my Mum died, but it didn't last long. Dom will come around, just you wait and see." I attempt to stop her worrying, praying to God that I'm right.

"I hope your right, child." Her voice is laced with grief and worry, but mostly love. I put the mug I'm washing on the side and reach for a plate.

"I'll even get up and see to Dom tonight, if you want. And tomorrow, I'll take her for a run- get her outside, get her to see what she's missing out on while she's cooped up in the god damn room," I say, placing the plate on the side, flicking my hands to get all the soap off and turning around to face her.

"Thank you, Teddy. I'm probably worrying over nothing, as I do, but you know what...

I cut her off by pulling her into a hug and she gives me one of her bone-crushing ones in return.

I keep my promise. At exactly 2:28 the next morning, when Dom's screams start, I leg it up the house. I'm at the room in seconds, enfolding her into a hug, soothing her as she cries. I promise her I'll do it every night if I have to. And I will.

**Awwr good ol' Teddy. Anyway, please follow and favourite, as it means the world! And a cheeky review would be the best... **

**Thanks**


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